" said Matilda suddenly making up her mind, "it is
very hard not to want to be fashionable."

"I don't know that there is any harm in being fashionable," said her
teacher quietly. But though his face was quiet, it was so strong and
good that Matilda felt great reliance on all it said.

"Isn't there?" she asked quite eagerly.

"Why should there be?"

"But--it costs so much!" Matilda could not help confessing it.

"To be fashionable?"

"Yes, sir."

"You do not dress yourself, I suppose. The money is not your money, is
it?"

"Yes, sir, some of it is my money; because I have an allowance, and get
my own shoes and gloves."

"And you find it costs a great deal to be fashionable?"

"Yes, sir; a _great_ deal."

"What would you like to do with your money?"

"There is a great deal to do," said Matilda soberly. "A great many
people want help, don't they?"

"More than you think. I could tell you of several in the class you have
just been with."

"Then, sir, what ought I to do?"--and Matilda lifted two earnest,
troubled eyes to the face of her teacher.

"I think you ought to look carefully to see what the Lord has given you
to do, and ask him to shew you."

"But about spending my money?"

"Then you will better be able to tell. When you see clearly what you
can do with a dollar, it will not be very hard to find out whether
Jesus means you should do that with it, or buy a pair of gloves, for
instance. We will talk more about this and I will help you. Here is
your house. Good bye."

"But Mr. Wharncliffe," said Matilda, eagerly, as she met the clasp of
his hand,--"one thing; I want to stay in your class. May I?"

"I shall be very glad to have you. Good bye."

He went off down the avenue, and Matilda stood looking after him. He
was a young man; he was hardly what people call a handsome man; his
figure had nothing imposing; but the child's heart went after him down
the avenue. His face had so much of the strength and the sweetness and
the beauty of goodness, that it attracted inevitably those who saw it;
there was a look of self-poise and calm which as surely invited trust;
truth and power were in the face, to such a degree that it is not
wonderful a child's heart, or an older person's, for that matter,
should be won and his confidence given even on a very short
acquaintance. Matilda stood still in the street, following the
teacher's receding figure with her eye.

"What are you looking at?" said Norton, now co